


Magic In The Moonlight At The Monster Ball

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angry Molly Hooper, Break Up, College Student Molly, Contests, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Crying Molly Hooper, F/M, First Kiss, Halloween Costumes, Happy Ending, Jealous Sherlock, Matchmaker Mary Morstan, Matchmaking, Mentioned Molly Hooper/Tom, Minor Mary Morstan/John Watson, Oblivious Molly, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pining Sherlock, Post-Break Up, Revenge, Sherlock Holmes Loves Molly Hooper, Sherlock in Love, Talking, college student sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 04:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12573544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Every year since they began uni, Sherlock and Molly have gone to the university's Monster Ball and competed in the couples costume contest, as friends. But this year it's different. Molly has a boyfriend and Sherlock is jealous.Still...there might be a little magic in the moonlight at the Monster Ball for Sherlock and Molly, if they're lucky.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/gifts).



> So this is an answer to [a prompt fill](http://penaltywaltz.tumblr.com/post/166967969333/halloween-prompts) for **Dreamin** (" _we team up for the couples contest every year as friends but this year you’re with someone else and i’m definitely Not Jealous and definitely Not Realising Feelings_ "). I'm going to try and finish it by midnight my time tomorrow, I promise!

“So! Is it still a date?”

Sherlock grimaced at the bouncy, happy tone. Ever since _Tom_ had come on the scene a few months back, he felt himself being edged out of Molly Hooper’s life. There wasn’t much time for friends now, no, not with their final year of uni and Molly gearing up to go to medical school. John and Mary had laid bets on how long Tom would last, and so far John was edging on winning the bet. Sherlock was already out of the running, having said no more than a fortnight.

It was nearly three months later and he hated the sight of the skinny fop more and more each day.

He shook his head, not looking up from his textbook. “Not going,” he said. “Why don’t you pair off with your boyfriend?”

“He says it’s stupid,” Molly said, a sound of something different in her voice. He looked up and saw she was frowning. The costume party was Molly’s favourite time of the year. Halloween in _general_ was her favourite time of the year, and Tom should have known that and at least pretended to be interested.

“Just the costume party, or…?”

“All of it,” she said with a sigh. “It’s such a fun time of year and he just doesn’t _understand_. But you do. You have for years! So please? One last hurrah at trying to win the couples contest?”

He looked at her and groaned inwardly. Oh, he was absolutely besotted with her. Had been since the last year, but she never gave him a second glance. They were simply friends who did so much together most people assumed they were a couple.

Most people...just not Molly.

It had been a surprise to run into her in London with Tom hanging on her. She said they’d met at a mixer and wasn’t he just the best? More like a cheap imitation of himself, Sherlock thought, but he didn’t voice it. He just went back to John and Mary’s flat and got pissed while they laughed their arses off. He didn’t see what was funny; he heart was broken that Molly would go after a cheap imitation rather than _him_.

But it didn’t matter; at least they’d have the Monster Ball together, one last time. Then...well, then maybe he should pull away from her, guard his heart against any more pain and just end their friendship.

“Alright,” he said with a nod. “Do you have the costumes picked out?”

She shook her head. “I hadn’t had any thought on it yet. I’ve been busy with other things. And Tom just demands so much of my time.” She set her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Not spending as much time with you.”

“Well, maybe after the party we can work on that,” he murmured. He thought for a moment. “You might have to buy a push-up brassiere, but I have an idea.”

“Are you saying my tits are small?” she said with a smile, taking the hand on his arm and swatting him.

“No!” he said, turning a bit red. “No, but if you want to go as Morticia Addams, your cleavage needs to be more spectacular than usual.”

“I’m not nearly attractive enough to pull off _that_ costume,” she said, shaking her head.

“If Tom hasn’t convinced you you can pull off bloody Cleopatra yet then he’s a piss-poor boyfriend,” Sherlock said, shutting his book. “I’ll come up with other ideas and we can talk later. I need to go.”

“Sherlock!” she said as he began to walk away. He thought he was beautiful. He thought she was amazing. And he loved her.

This was not going to end well.


	2. Chapter 2

He walked aimlessly for a while and then decided the hell with it, maybe it might be good to get away for a bit. He headed towards the train station and caught the train to London, knowing that if he was lucky at least one of his other best mates would be home. He’d, in his own way, envied the type of relationship John and Mary had had. They were close to each other and spent time together but were never sickeningly sweet and still made time for him and Molly, at least until John started medical school in London and there was more distance between them. But he never felt less close to the newly married Watsons, even with distance and such separating them.

He wondered why it wasn’t like that with Molly.

It could be because he didn’t like Tom, he supposed. He tried very hard not to show it because Molly was happy and he liked her being happy, but he had the impression Tom was selfish, and Molly was the most open and loving person he knew. They just should never have meshed.

 _Not like we have romantically,_ a snide voice said in the back of his head. Oh, he’d made a fool of himself in front of John and Mary after he’d inadvertently third-wheeled the date Molly and Tom had been on. He’d stayed as long as he could stand it but there had been an ache in his gut and his heart and he knew, then, he had wanted Molly as more than a friend. Alas, it was too late.

Why hadn’t she ever noticed? He wasn’t the type to use his friendship for an obligation of romance or sexual favours, but he thought he had been a little more blatant about fancying her even if he hadn’t realized he had. John and Mary had said it had been all but obvious so why hadn’t she seen it? He’d pondered that when he wasn’t dreaming about vindictive ways of one-upping Tom.

He was so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t realized the train had pulled into London and he got off and got a cab to get to the Watson flat. It didn’t take long and Mary must have seen him from the window because the door was opening before he could knock. “Another awful encounter?” she asked sympathetically.

“Molly wanted to know if we were still going to attend the Monster Ball together,” he said with a sigh.

Molly raised an eyebrow. “So Tom didn’t make the cut?”

“Apparently he hates the holiday as a whole,” Sherlock said, moving past her and flopping down on her sofa before turning to her. “I suggested Gomez and Morticia Addams, since all our other attempts at being creepy, cute or on top of pop culture have failed, but she balked at it and I left in a huff.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” Mary said, shaking her head and lifting his legs up so she could sit down, and then draping his legs across her lap. “You are so in love you can’t stand it, can you?”

“Yes,” he said, reaching for a sofa cushion and plopping it on his face. “I don’t understand it. I...what does she see in him?”

“Probably everything you have to offer, except availability,” Mary. “And it seems the veneer is fading.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“She came by last weekend to look into some of the medical schools around here and we had lunch, and she said Tom is stifling her a bit,” Mary said, drumming on Sherlock’s leg. “She also said she wondered why she was with him when she wasn’t happy.”

Sherlock lifted the cushion off his face and looked at Molly with a look of confusion on his face. “How can she be unhappy? She’s smiling and bubbly as per usual when she sees me.”

“Then perhaps it’s because of the company,” Mary said with a smirk.

Sherlock frowned more and then swung his legs off her lap, sitting up. “She can’t fancy me! Why would she if she’s with _him_?”

“Well, one of you makes her happy. The other doesn’t.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “If you’re smart, you’ll go talk to her _before_ the Monster Ball. See where you stand.”

Sherlock nodded, still confused. There wasn’t a chance...was there?


	3. Chapter 3

He’d arrived back to his flat later that evening, finding his satchel that he had completely forgotten he had left when he’d walked off in a huff sitting on his bed with a note from Molly on top. She’d had a key ever since he moved out of the dorms, mostly because he would get so wrapped up in his studies he’d forget to eat, drink a healthy amount of water and bathe. She would come over when she’d deemed he’d “buried himself in his studies” for too long and prod him away from his desk with a home-cooked meal that she would prepare while he showered, and somehow a case of bottled water would appear next to his desk with a note saying “Drink Me.”

It had been some time since she had done that, though, that he had wondered if she ever would again, or if he’d lose himself to his studies before he graduated.

But once he registered there was a note, he sat on his bed and read it. It was short, saying if he really wanted to go as Gomez Addams she would attempt to assemble a suitable Morticia to match, but she wasn’t going to be able to costume shop with him. He didn’t mind, to be honest; he was sure with her amateur dramatics connections she would find something suitable, but he wanted to make sure he looked as dashing and suave as the man in the movies that Molly loved so much. He wanted to impress her. 

And, as this was the last year they would be attending the Monster Ball together unless Molly stayed here for post-graduate work, he wanted to win the contest.

He spent the week until the night of the ball assembling his costume, even going so far as to ask his brother for help in getting a bespoke suit. Mycroft had been surprised but conceded that favour to his younger brother. Mycroft was a competitive sort so he felt the least he could do was help them win. And, he supposed, Mycroft had a soft spot for Molly. Molly had spent time with him on the summer holidays while he was with his family in London before this last summer, and they had seemed to get along well. One sharp-cut pinstripe suit would be a small nod towards helping the two of them achieve victory.

It was with some trepidation he went to Molly’s flat that she shared with her roommate Meena the night of the ball, a long-stemmed red rose in hand. He could hear raised voices inside and knocked, awaiting the answer with some nerves.

Meena answered the door and with a wordless sigh of relief slipped out around him in her own costume as a sexy doctor. He stepped inside and saw Molly in the dress for the costume but not the wig, her arms crossed on the arm of the sofa and sobs echoing in the room. Sherlock didn’t even bother to shut the door behind him, putting the rose on the coffee table and sitting next to her. “Molly,” he said quietly.

“That bastard,” she said, lifting her head up and dashing away tears with the back of her hand. “He’d planned all along to go with that tart Catherine McNamara. They’re going to enter the costume contest and they stole our idea.”

Sherlock reached over to pull her against him and let her cry on him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into the crook of his shoulder. “I’m sure we can change our costumes,” he said, awkwardly running a hand down her back. He wasn’t used to comforting her while she was in such a state.

“He said he hated the holiday! But he was suckered into it by that...that... _cunt_ , and then he stole our idea to boot!” she said between sobs. His eyes widened at her choice in profanity. He had never been cheated on, mostly because he’d never opened himself up to the possibility of a romantic relationship with anyone, but he knew she had to be hurt and angry.

“We can skip the ball,” he said quietly.

Molly jerked her head away and looked at him with an angry and determined look on her face. “ _No._ I’m going to put that bastard in his place. We’re going to win.”

“With the same costume?” Sherlock asked.

Molly shook her head. “Let me call my mate in the drama department. I’m sure we can come up with something that will knock the wind out of them.” She leaned over and kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Sherlock. I don’t want anyone else with me tonight.”

He nodded, surprised for a moment she had kissed him. She showed her affection with hugs, usually, so a cheek kiss was unusual. But he enjoyed it, even if he doubted he would get another one. Or anything more. There was no point in pursuing her now; she would want to stew over Tom for a while, and he would be the supportive friend, as she had been for him.

But for now, there was a contest to win, and a costume to wrangle up.


	4. Chapter 4

An hour later, the two of them were in rather elaborate pirate costumes. He had a fake beard attached to his chin with a curly mustache to match. He vaguely remembered the university had done a production of “The Pirates Of Penzance” but Molly’s friend in the dramatics department assured them that the costumes they were wearing had not been used and therefore would not be recognized as retreads. He had to admit, this was something of a boyhood fantasy come true, and he had a bit more of a smile on his face than Molly did. Her demeanor was one of anger and determination.

Woe betide Tom when she ran into him.

They registered themselves for the costume contest as Anne Boney and Blackbeard and then went to mingle a bit. He knew that the costume contest was decided on by judges and Molly knew exactly who this years were and made beelines for them, chatting them up. It didn’t take long for them to realize the story of the stolen costume ideas and the cheating bastard had already begun to be spread by Meena, and he was pleased by that. Even if the costumes were above par, the fact that most of the judges were women and were sympathizing with Molly as well as in awe of the pirate costumes went in their favour.

After an hour, they went to the table where the snacks were. Molly picked up a cupcake with a ghost marshmallow on it and plucked the ghost off, taking a bite. “While you were in the loo Meena found me and told me that apparently, the bastard had _two_ tarts on the side,” she said. “The other one came by herself and ended up dumping red punch all down the front of his outfit. He slinked out of here with the tramp biting his head off.”

“Good riddance,” Sherlock said, looking around at the spread. Not much interested him so he grabbed a bottle of ale and motioned to the courtyard outside. “I think I’d like some air. It seems like more of a crush than last year.”

“It does,” Molly said with a nod, picking up another cupcake with her other hand. Sherlock picked up a second bottle of ale for Molly and the two of them began to move through the crowd to the doors to the courtyard.

Once they got outside Molly shifted her hold on things, reaching for her bottle of ale and managing to put the full cupcake in his hand. “I’m not in the mood for sweets,” he said with a frown.

“It’s really good. Black velvet with some berry filling,” she said, taking another bite of hers. “Live a bit, Sherlock. This is our last Monster Ball.”

Sherlock leaned against the wall and took a sip of his ale before speaking. “So you aren’t staying here for our post-graduate studies?” he asked.

“Well, I might,” she said, tilting her head as she finished off the cupcake. “Not much reason to stay now, I suppose.”

“I’m staying,” he said quietly. “You could stay with me.”

She stuck a finger in her mouth to suck off the icing on it. “Do you want me to?” she asked.

“I would,” he replied. He looked at the cupcake and then handed it to her, his stomach suddenly feeling as though a million butterflies were in it. “I didn’t like Tom.”

“You were right not to,” she said.

“No, you misunderstand,” he said shaking his head. “I didn’t like him because he seemed so similar to me, and yet he _wasn’t_ me, and I wanted to be him.” He took a large swig of the ale to bolster his confidence. “I was jealous and I hated him but he made you happy, and I only want you to be happy. But I wish you’d be happy with me.”

Molly stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, then looked back at the cupcake and peeled off the wrapper. “I see,” she said.

“But you aren’t and that’s--” He was stopped when she pushed the cupcake into his mouth. He gave her a surprised look but took a bite, chewing it slowly and then swallowing. “Why did you do that?”

“I’d rather have a sweet taste when I kiss you than ale,” she said.

It took him a moment to register what she was saying before he took the rest of the cupcake and ate it slowly, realizing she was right, that it tasted quite good. When she was done he licked his lips and then set the ale down, reaching for her as the moonlight shone on both of them. “You won’t regret this?” he asked, letting his thumbs run circles on her lower back.

“I think I made the wrong choice originally,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I was missing what was right in front of me the whole time.”

“As long as you don’t regret it,” he said, leaning in.

“I promise I won’t,” she said before she raised herself up and pressed her lips against his. She was right; this was a much sweeter kiss, literally and figuratively, and as he tightened his hold on her and deepened the kiss he didn’t give a damn if they won the costume contest anymore. He’d gotten a much better prize for simply telling Molly the truth, finally. And he couldn’t ask for anything more.


End file.
